Carol’s smile had that special illumination that appears whenever she is walking along a beach. I noticed it first when we walked the Pacific beaches near our new home in southern California. And it was out in force here along the French Riviera, where for me my beaming grin came from how the citizens of Nice handle the sand.

   Carol has described beach sand as “walking on velvet.” I’ve walked on velvet. (Like George Costanza, I would ensconce myself in velvet if it were socially acceptable). Velvet does not feel like beach sand. Sandpaper feels like beach sand. Exfoliants feel like beach sand. Dandruff feels like beach sand. Metamucil tastes like it.